


Charles' Favourite Drink is Spiked Fruit Punch

by ayadn



Series: Charles' favourite drink is... [1]
Category: Let's Play (Webcomic)
Genre: Drunk Dialing, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:35:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23421037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayadn/pseuds/ayadn
Summary: Sam gets drunk for the first time, calls Charles, and tells him things she would never say sober.
Relationships: Charles Jones/Sam Young (Let's Play)
Series: Charles' favourite drink is... [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1748803
Comments: 17
Kudos: 146





	Charles' Favourite Drink is Spiked Fruit Punch

“Hello?” he answers, his voice thick with sleep.

“Uhm…I-Is this Charles?” she says, her words sounding a little slurred.

“Samara? Is everything alright?” he asks, immediately sitting up and looking at the clock on his bedside table. It was two in the morning. Samara would not have a reason to call him so early in the morning if it weren’t an emergency.

Sam giggles into the line. “Everything’s great, Charles!” she says breathlessly. “Soo great.”

“Samara, what’s going on right now? Where are you?” panic crawls up his spine as he puts his glasses on, ready to get changed and leave should she ask him to pick her up.

“I just got home. Link dropped me off.” She giggles again. “I went to a party. It was really fun!” he hears a thud and her giggles turn into full laughter. “I just fell off the bed!”

He sighs in relief, taking off his glasses and slouching back into the headboard. “What did you have to drink at the party, Samara? You seem quite drunk.”

“Drunk? Is that what this feeling is?” she asks and then laughs again. “I love it! This is fun!” he hears covers rustling and then the flick of a lamp’s light switch. “I had something red and fruity. It was sweet and tangy but at the end it kinda burned. It was really good though. I had four!”

“Are you going to bed now, Samara?” he hopes she stays in bed. He doesn’t like the idea of her completely inebriated all alone in that apartment. She might go outside and get targeted by sleazy men that roam the streets at this hour. He hears her hum in confirmation. “Good. Stay in bed okay. Don’t get up until the morning.”

He hears her moan on the other line, and he thinks his heart forgot to beat. “Of course.” she says. “I like my bed. It’s very warm and comfy. Do _you_ have a nice bed, Charles?”

“Yes, Samara. My bed is nice.” He says trying to keep his cool.

“Really?” she perks up. “I want to test your bed out. I don’t think it’s better than mine. Mine’s really soft and fluffy. Do you want to test mine out?”

“ _O fy duw_.” He groans. This will be the end of him he thinks, and what’s sad is that Samara doesn’t even realize what she’s done.

“I like it when you speak in Welsh. It’s very…hot.”

He finds himself chuckling at that. Sober Samara would never say that to him. She probably wouldn’t even let herself think it, lest she unconsciously says it out loud. “You think my voice is hot?” he asks, not being able to resist teasing.

“Y-yeah. And your face, and your body, and your hair. Ooh! Especially when it’s all messy. It makes me want to run my hands through them.” He hears a muffled groan and he suspects she screamed into her pillow. "Gosh darn it, Charles! Why are you sooooo perfect?!”

“Oh Bunty, I’m far from it.”

“Ooh and when you call me that too! And when you say my first name. I get chills down my back.” He hears her sigh. “I guess I really like you huh.”

“Thank you, I’m very honoured.” He passes it off as her having a simple crush. Indeed, he was quite good looking, and they’ve been spending more time together now that she was his assistant. It wouldn't be surprising if a young woman like her developed a little crush.

“No no nonono! You don’t get it Charles. I _like_ like you. In the same way a protagonist from a romance comic falls for the hot stoic guy with a mysterious past.” She lets out a small breathless laugh and he finds himself losing the air in his lungs. “I _really_ like you, Charles.”

Charles prepares himself to answer but she doesn’t wait for one. Sam continues to ramble about anything she can think of. Most of them were related to games he didn’t recognize but he listens anyway, staying on the line until all he hears is her steady breathing.

“Samara?” he calls softly, in case she was actually sleeping. When he hears no response, he smiles to himself. Finding it absolutely adorable that she had fallen asleep while talking to him. He imagines her snuggled in her blankets, hair fanning her pillow and Bowser tucked into the curve of her body. He thinks he doesn’t deserve little moments like these, but he’s thankful for them regardless.

“ _Cewch breuddwydion hyfryd, cariad_.” he says, before ending the call.

~~

Sam gets to work with the worst headache she’s ever had in her entire life. She can feel each brain cell dying at every painful throb. She doesn’t remember much of last night, let alone how she got into her apartment and went to bed. All she knows is that the thought of something red and sweet and liquid makes her want to vomit.

When she arrives into her office, she sees two pills of what looks like ibuprofen beside a tall glass of opaque green liquid sitting on her desk.

“A cure for the hangover.” the voice says behind her.

She swallows the pills but eyes the green drink suspiciously.

Charles chuckles at the distrusting look on her face. “Oh come on, it’s a Welsh secret. Tried and true.”

“What’s in it?” she asks and Charles just shrugs putting his hands in his pocket.

“It’s best if you don’t know.”

She sniffs the vile green thing and her nose scrunches, but she proceeds to chug the contents of the glass, until it was half empty and she couldn’t handle the taste anymore.

“Packs a punch but it works. Trust me.” He smiles, handing her his handkerchief to wipe the remnants off her lips.

“How did you know I have a hangover?”

He tells her she drunk dialed him early in the morning and they talked for over an hour. She apologizes for keeping him up but he graciously refuses her apology, telling her it was his pleasure to see her in such a state. Her entire face and neck turns red in embarrassment and Charles just laughs at her. She begs for him to tell her what she'd said but Charles remains relentless.

“Oh come on! Please?” she pleads, giving him her best puppy eyes.

Charles turns his head away from her, knowing it’ll be hard to resist if he keeps looking. “Nope” he says, “it’s my little secret now. It should teach you a lesson about the consequences of drinking.”

“Tell me and I’ll owe you a favour.” She says, grabbing onto his forearm. “Anything you say, I’ll do it.”

Charles feels the back of his neck heat up. “I-I’ll keep that in mind and use it for later, Miss Young.” He clears his throat, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. “Now get back to work, just because you had too much fun last night doesn’t mean you get a free pass today.”

She pouts and slumps into her chair as he walks towards the exit. But before he leaves he smiles at her, eyes tender, and says, “Miss Young, about what you said over the phone, I feel the same way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Short, cute and fluffy. Because the latest chap of the current fic I'm working on was too dramatic and I wanted a pick me up.


End file.
